


These Four Walls

by defenselesswriter



Series: Lovers [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brief suicidal thoughts, Canon Divergence, Complete, Grief, Hunters, M/M, alive!Kate Argent, background Laura Hale/Lydia Martin - Freeform, background Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura - Freeform, bottom!Derek, very brief - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defenselesswriter/pseuds/defenselesswriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things in Beacon Hills never stay calm even when Stiles needs it to the most. Stiles deals with the everlasting supernatural drama that is Beacon Hills and losing his mate.</p>
<p>But what if his mate isn't lost in the way that Stiles thinks he is?</p>
<p>Aka a super dramatic summary for a not-so dramatic story.<br/>(title is from the song These Four Walls by Little Mix, the song that kind of inspired the continuation of this story)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If I Hear Your Voice I'll Be Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, this probably won't be updated for a while because I want to finish most of the fic before I post anything. I just wanted you guys to see that Derek is alive, not dead and completely fine.

Derek doesn’t understand what’s going on. One minute, he’s in his kitchen eating dinner with his family and the next he’s staring into a flashlight that’s being held by some kid his age with floppy hair, an uneven jawline who smells like a wolf and a woman holding a gun.

He’s really, really confused, and he’s underground and everything is dusty and smells weird like _death_. He doesn’t know what else to do since the two people are just staring at him, so he reaches a hand up.

“ _Derek_?” the werewolf asks, finally getting into action and pulling Derek out of whatever the fuck he was in. Once he’s out, he glances back at it. That looks creepily like a tomb. Is this some prank Laura is playing on him? If so, it’s totally not even a little bit funny. He’s gonna kill her when he gets back home.

“Who are you?” he asks and then stumbles over, apparently too weak to carry himself. “And what did Laura do to me?”

The boy’s eyes widen, looking over at the woman, who just shrugs, looking equally as confused as the werewolf. “Umm. I’m Scott?”

“You don’t sound so sure about that one,” Derek snaps as ‘Scott’ lifts his arm and puts it around his shoulders, supporting Derek. The woman does the same and they start dragging him out of the place he’s in. It looks really, really old. It’s torn down and made of stone and really worn. It doesn’t smell like anywhere in Beacon Hills.

“Where are we?” Derek asks. “This isn’t Beacon Hills.”

Scott sighs, wrapping his arm around Derek’s waist, taking more of his weight. “We’re in Mexico. Um, I don’t know what else to say? Maybe we should let you rest and get back your strength and maybe get back to Beacon Hills.”

 _“Mexico?_ ” Derek is incredulous. Why the hell would he be in Mexico? He doesn’t know anyone in Mexico. What the actual fuck?

He remains silent the rest of the time they pull him out of the fallen building. By the time they reach outside, he’s exhausted, his head falling without his permission. He’s just so tired and confused and kind of really misses his bed right at this moment.

He can’t stop thinking of his bed until the smells hit him. He heard the heartbeats. He may be exhausted, but he isn’t stupid. He knows to keep his senses alert for danger at all times, but he doesn’t expect the smells. They’re really weird. There’s a total of four, three of them aren’t completely human. A coyote, fox, and something else? He isn’t sure what that smells is, but it smells almost like death.

It’s the last smell that gets to him. The one that is completely human.

“Is that him?” the coyote asks. “Is that Derek?”

The man in question looks up slowly, staring at the human, confused. The human’s eyes are blown wide, a slightly glowing golden color. He looks beyond confused and sad before he answers with, “Kind of.”

But the reason Derek can’t take his eyes off of the kid despite him being insanely pretty? The human smells like _mate_.

“What are we all staring at?” the human asks. “Get him in the jeep.”

“How are we supposed to all fit?” the coyote asks.

The human won’t break eye contact with him as he shakes his head. “I don’t know. Sit on Kira’s lap, Malia. I don’t _know_. We need to get him somewhere safe. This whole trip was for him to be safe. So why are we just dangling him here all weak?”

“What the hell is going on?” Derek asks, voice cracking as he stares at the human, who still refuses to look away from him like he can’t believe it.

The human swallows, breaking eye contact to look at something behind him. “Scott, you riding with Braeden?”

Scott nods once then looks to the others. “Kira, Malia, Lydia, you guys are going to have to make it in the backseat of the jeep. We’ll meet up in Beacon Hills.”

“Like hell I’m driving you all the way to Beacon Hills,” the woman, Braeden Derek thinks, snorts.

Scott looks over at her. “We were about to pay fifty thousand dollars for Derek. I’ll give you ten percent of that if you let me ride with you, and I’ll pay for the hotel we’ll end up staying at tonight.”

Braeden studies him closely, probably looking for the bluff before nodding.

“Everyone seems okay with this plan except me,” the coyote blurts. “I’m not sitting in the backset. Why can’t Derek sit in the back? Why can’t Kira sit on his lap?”

The fox looks slightly offended at that. “I don’t even _know_ this Derek.”

 _This_ Derek?

The human sharply turns his head to stare at the coyote. “Malia, I need you to sit in the backseat. Derek is weak and needs his space. He’s confused. Do you remember what it was like when you became human again? It’s kind of like that for Derek right now.”

She lifts an unimpressed eyebrow with him. “And what’s so wrong with him? He doesn’t smell injured. There’s no blood on him. In case you forgot, I’m actually injured right now.”

Scott looks up at that, frowning slightly, but she waves him off like it isn’t that big of a deal.

The human sighs, rubbing at his neck. “Malia, _please_. For me?”

Her eyes narrow before she huffs out a breath of air and an annoyed, “ _Fine_.”

“Glad we got the seating arrangements down,” Derek says dryly. “But can anyone tell me why I’m in Mexico? Do you know how pissed my mom is going to be when she finds out someone took me? You guys tried to spend that much money on me? My mom would literally _kill_ people for me. She’s the – ”

“Alpha,” the human finishes for him but his voice is dark, tinged with sadness. “Yeah, we know, Der.”

“Is someone going to explain anything to me?” Derek demands.

Scott and the human share a look like they’re having an entire conversation with just their faces. Derek can’t decipher what the looks mean, but then the human is walking towards him. The woman hands him off to the boy, who just quirks a small smile at him. He looks off to the side and twitches his head and then someone is coming up on Derek’s other side and he’s being half dragged over to the jeep.

The human and coyote help into the passenger seat while the ladies climb into the back on the driver’s side. Once everyone is in the car, the human starts the jeep and pulls out of there as fast as he can.

“Lydia, can you keep an eye on my phone for texts from Scott?” the human asks the backseat.

The redhead nods. “Your dad has sent almost fifty by now,” she replies nonchalantly.

The human sighs, suddenly looking tired and ragged like he is about to just say he’s done with everything and climb into bed, ever coming out again. Derek kinda feels that way right now too and tries not to imagine them in the bed together and never coming out for a different reason.

“Gross what’s that smell?” the coyote – Malia asks.

The human looks back at her from the rear view mirror, confused but doesn’t comment. His eyes flick over to Derek worriedly, but he also sends over a smile like he’s trying to comfort Derek, reassure him. It’s kinda working.

“What’s your name?” Derek finally asks.

The human looks over at him like he isn’t sure what he said and then he looks confused for a brief second before looking sad again. Then he schools his face into a neutral one, and Derek didn’t know a face could be so expressive before. “I’m, uh, I’m Stiles,” he answers.

“Who names their kid Stiles?” Derek can’t help but ask, smirking slightly at the outraged look on _Stiles_ ’ face.

He sputters out a few words before huffing at him. “ _I_ named myself Stiles. My actual name is a monstrosity that no one can pronounce. My dad can’t even pronounce it a third of time, though it is hilarious when he says it when he’s drunk and oh shit. None of you are allowed to be within hearing distance of my house when I get home because he’s probably going to yell at me using my full name.” Stiles gives a full body shudder at that as he changes gears, making the jeep go faster.

Derek can’t take his eyes off of him. He’s so animated and beautiful and his _smell_. It’s amazing and incredibly calming at the same time. If he breathes it in long enough, he almost forgets that he’s in Mexico and not eating dinner with his family. Seriously. His mom is going to be _pissed_ when he finally gets home.

“Yeah, you guys probably shouldn’t drop me off,” Derek says. “It might be best if I tell her the story before she meets any of you.”

He didn’t exactly know what kind of response to get, but the overwhelming silence and the uncomfortableness of it wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Why do you and Lydia look awkward?” Malia asks suddenly, curious as she stares at the drive from behind the shoulder of the fox. “Well, you look sadder than Lydia does. She just looks like she wants to be anywhere else but here.”

“For your information, I _do_ want to be anywhere else but here,” Lydia tells her with a sweet smile on her face.

Derek is so very confused, so he looks back at Stiles, who is staring at the road, his face hard. “Lydia, any texts?” he asks.

She shakes her head no before the phone vibrates in her hand. Derek hasn’t ever seen a phone like that. It’s weird. It’s rectangular and isn’t a flip phone and has no keyboard. Is it only a thing you can find in Mexico?

“Wait I spoke too soon,” Lydia says, frowning at the screen. She rattles off the message, saying the location of the hotel Scott plans on staying at. Stiles asks Lydia to give him directions, so she does. Derek momentarily wonders how she knows her way around Mexico before he slowly drifts into a light sleep.

There’s a hand on his shoulder moments later, shaking him awake and he looks at the human – Stiles, who is just smiling fondly at him like he knows him or something. It’s really weird.

“Hey, big guy, or I guess little guy,” his shine with mischief and Derek wonders why he corrected himself, “how about we get you into a bed?”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “And what about you?”

Stiles flinches as he realizes what he said and then blushes. “Um well there’s only one bed in the room because we’re not actually that rich so. I’ll take the floor or the couch if there’s one.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “You’re not going to steal my virtue if we share a bed, Stiles. It’s not a big deal.”

The human makes a weird face at that and the nods, getting out of the car. Derek notices that the girls are waiting for them inside luckily. Malia doesn’t look very happy, but once she gets handed a card, she walks off towards her room Derek guesses.

Stiles sighs before walking to the front desk, grabbing a keycard from the person at the desk with a smile. Then he leads Derek to a room, opening the door and letting Derek in first. The room smells clean on the surface, but he can smell other people in it. It’s not too bad, though. Not as bad as it could be.

“So how is it?” Stiles asks, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, watching Derek closely. “Smell any weird things?”

“So you do know about the werewolf stuff?” Derek asks, curious.

“Yeah, couldn’t you tell Scott was one?” Stiles smirks slightly. “And Malia’s a werecoyote and Kira is a werefox or technically she’s a kitsune.” Stiles shrugs. “It’s so weird having to explain this to you.”

Derek frowns. “You don’t know me.”

Stiles’ eyes widens and he groans. “Sorry. Forget I said anything.” He goes straight into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. Derek decides to sit on the bed, waiting for the human as he looks around. He sees a newspaper on the nightstand and picks it up because he’s lazy. He starts reading through it until he hears the bathroom door.

“I guess we should talk about this sooner rather than later,” Stiles says as he walks out and then stops when he sees the newspaper. “Shit. Put that down. _Now_.”

Derek drops it, confused. “Yeah, we should talk,” Derek agrees and then glances down at the newspaper that has the date of January. _2012_. “Um, wait a second. Why does this say 2012? Is this a joke?” Laura is very thorough.

Stiles swallows hard and shakes his head softly as he steps closer. He takes the newspaper and throws it off to the side. Then he starts pacing and wringing his hands. “Okay, so you’re sixteen, right?” Stiles asks, looking over at Derek.

Derek shakes his head. “Seventeen. You?”

Stiles nods slowly, eyes wide and Derek doesn’t know why. “Dude, it’s so weird to be the same age as you. Anyway. Off topic. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Eating dinner with my family,” Derek answers slowly. “Then I woke up in that run down shit hole. It looked really old.”

Stiles’ lips quirk into a smile at that. “Yeah, it is really old. Um, I don’t know how to say this. Fuck.” He runs both hands into his hair, tugging at the strands and making it a complete mess. “Okay, so it’s 2012 right now. And, uh, you and I know each other.” His heart is racing, and Derek wants to know what’s wrong. He smells sadness wafting off of him. “You’re like…well I have _no idea_ how old are you. You and your family are very vague about that, and I just gave up because dealing with Peter is exhausting enough.”

“You know Peter?” Derek asks. “And we’re friends?”

“We’re not exactly _friends_ ,” Stiles tells him, pushing his head forward and then grimacing. “No, wait. We are. Kinda. We’re a little more than that?”

“Tell me, Stiles,” Derek demands, standing up. “Your anxiety is making me anxious. It can’t be that bad. What is my mom dead and Laura is alpha?” which is actually pretty bad because Laura is already bad enough without being alpha, and Derek still needs his mom.

Stiles freezes at that, eyes wide.

“Oh my god my mom’s dead?” Derek asks, voice breaking. “How? How did she die?”

“I – I….” Stiles sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “God I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you. I don’t want to tell you the details. I don’t think I should. Um, well. Your family is dead. Except Cora and Laura, but they’re in South America, I think? I’m not entirely sure. They kinda skipped town a few months ago because umm.”

Derek is just watching him, listening to his heart. There’s no tick in it, no sign of lying. He doesn’t know how to handle this information, how to react. He just stares at Stiles, but he’s not really seeing the human. Just. He’s in the future? Where his family is dead?

“This is a dream,” Derek says with a shake of his head. “More like a nightmare, but hey, it doesn’t have to stay a nightmare, does it?” Stiles comes back into focus, and Derek smiles smugly at him as he stands up, stepping closer to the human.

“Eep,” Stiles says as Derek crowds into his personal space. “Derek, this isn’t a dream and when you go back to normal, this is gonna be so weird. It’s already kinda weird.”

Derek shakes his head. “It’s a dream. Why else would you already know about werewolves when being a human and not a hunter? You’re not a hunter, right?” He leans back to stare into the honey-brown eyes.

“Uh, no. I’m in Scott and Laura’s packs,” he answers, slightly unsure of himself.

There’s no tick, no lie even though it’s unheard of to be in two packs, so Derek leans in even closer. “You’re basically my dream guy, Stiles. You even smell like mate.” He drags his nose over the sensitive skin of Stiles’ neck, the human shivering under the touch and leaning his head back to give Derek more access to his neck. Derek brushes his lips over the pale skin, tongue flicking out against a mole and is rewarded with a moan.

“Derek,” Stiles moans and then suddenly steps back. “Wait what? I smell like mate?” His voice is high with hope, and Derek wonders why for a moment, but then stops caring because this is a _dream_.

“This is my dream,” Derek says. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.” He tries taking another step forward before Stiles puts a hand out.

“No,” Stiles says firmly. “You’re not dreaming, D. And I’m not going to kiss you with you thinking that this isn’t reality, so I’ll prove it you. Uh, so I used to have a lot of trouble with nightmares and they always felt so real. I had no idea what was reality and what was a dream. It was really, really scary, so I researched a few things to help me figure out when I was dreaming and when I wasn’t.”

Derek sighs. “Okay, tell me.”

“In dreams, you have extra fingers,” Stiles mumbles, looking down almost embarrassed-like.

Derek reaches over, grabs Stiles’ hand and does a quick count of his fingers. Stiles wiggles them around. “All five, see?” Stiles says. “No extras.”

Derek frowns, knowing that Stiles believes this isn’t a dream and maybe it is reality. He _is_ a werewolf and has been conditioned not to think anything is impossible. “So, what I traveled into the future?”

Stiles shakes his head. “It’s more of someone did something to you that made you sixteen in body and mind. But it’s _you_. There’s only one you.” The way his voice sounds, Derek doesn’t understand it. He sounds like he’s in wonder, his eyes flicking across Derek’s face, a smile curving his lips like he can’t believe his eyes, like Derek is making him the happiest person on earth.

The werewolf takes a deep breath, trying to take everything in and then just nods, rubbing his thumb over the inside of Stiles’ wrist. The human’s heart is pounding and racing, and Derek wants to know why, but he’s also way too tired for this.

He finally releases Stiles’ wrist and pulls his shirt over his head. There’s a choked off sound from behind him, but Derek decides not to look back as he toes off his shoes and then tugs off his jeans. Then he gets into the bed, turning off the lamp on his side then looks over at Stiles. “You going to bed?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at the human.

Stiles is just kinda stuck there, mouth hanging open and eyes wide before he nods slowly. “Yeah, I can, uh, I can do that,” Stiles stumbles out and gets to work on removing all the shirts he has on. Derek watches for a moment just to see how many shirts the kid is wearing. He stops at his t-shirt then pulls off his jeans, looking nervous.

“This is weird,” Stiles says as he climbs into bed. He’s silent for a few moments, rolling around to get comfortable and then glances at Derek and sighs. “Oh my god this is so weird. Like I’m in bed with teenager Derek. I’m in bed with _Derek_.” The last part is a sigh like he’s relieved to be saying that.

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

Stiles barks out a laugh at that. “Oh my god I knew it. I knew there was a cheesy jokster underneath all that leather, stubble, and broodiness.”

“Stubble? So I actually grow facial hair? _Awesome_.” Laura kept telling him how he would never be able to grow it, that he would prepubescent forever, and if it ever did come it, it would be all patchy and gross.

“Dude, you get like halfway to a beard when you don’t shave for a day. It looks insanely soft too. Hey, when we get you back to normal, promise to let me pet it. Pleeeeeease?”

“You can pet my beard,” he promises, but Derek doesn’t mention that maybe he doesn’t want to be fixed. Stiles seems to like him better this way. And he wants whatever his mate wants.

Stiles gives him a soft smile, eyes drifting close as he snuggles into the pillow. His mouth parts as his breathing evens out. Even in his sleep he won’t stop making noise or moving. He unconsciously licks his lips and Derek wants to do the same.

He doesn’t. Because that’s creepy and Stiles is sleeping and can’t give him permission to kiss him. But Stiles is so beautiful when he sleeps. He makes soft little noises, sighs, and even mumbles in his sleep.

“Shhh, Der. ‘S just a dream.” 

Derek can’t help but smile as Stiles’ lips curl the same way. And finally, Derek feels relaxed enough to join Stiles in the sleeping world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter seems very familiar to some of you, it's because I actually wrote this and posted in on my tumblr and was planning into making it into a full length fic of it's own, but then the Lovers verse seemed like it was an excellent place to put this. Slight edits have been made to fit the verse better.
> 
> OH WHAT HE'S ALIVE AND I LIED TO ALL OF YOU AND I'M SORRY FOR BREAKING ALL OF YOUR HEARTS. I REALLY AM OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY.
> 
> But it's better. He's alive. 100% alive. Deaged, yes. Has no memories of Stiles, yes. BUT ALIVE AND WELL
> 
> As for all of the confusion this chapter probably gave you, the next chapter will be in Stiles' POV and will explain hopefully everything.
> 
> Yup. I decided to steal some stuff from canon. Sorrynotsorry


	2. In This Time I've Lost All Sense of Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' mate is dead, right? He's gone forever, right? Hmmm...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at summaries. Sorry. It's in Stiles' POV before they head to Mexico. Woo.

_One Month Ago_ :

It’s been a really, really weird three months. It’s been a really shitty three months. Horrible three months. All of the bad adjectives to describe the last three months. Because Derek is gone, and Stiles isn’t sure how to live without his mate.

But he doesn’t get time to mourn. Soon there’s new supernatural shit going down. Laura and Cora leave because they need the time to mourn. They promise to be back soon, and Stiles believes them, but that means he’s left without his alpha too. He still has Scott and Lydia. There’s still Allison and Isaac.

Anyway. Supernatural shit. These last few months have been actually insane. First they found Malia, a werecoyote apparently? It was super weird. Now she’s human most of the time and learning how to control her shift instead of just being a coyote the whole time. Then they met Kira, who is a kitsune, aka a werefox, and Stiles didn’t know there were this many variations of “weres” and maybe he should’ve known. Deaton had given him the resources to learn more about the supernatural, but all he could focus on was his own magic and his mate.

They knew Lydia was something supernatural and finally found out what it is and what it means. She’s a banshee, a wailing woman. They already knew she could find dead bodies, and that was definitely weird, but she can hear things even the werewolves can’t. It’s come in handy a few times.

The pack has grown not only bigger but also closer. Isaac and Allison have officially started dating. Kira and Scott are dancing around each other. Stiles and Malia. Well, they’ve tried. _Stiles_ tried. He couldn’t. And Lydia? She’s still in contact with Laura, but she’s giving the alpha her space and time to grieve. Everyone can tell that Lydia misses her, but she’s strong and she knows what Laura needs is her sister, not her girlfriend.

Stiles hasn’t slept in the last three months. When he is sleeping, he can’t tell what his nightmare is and what is real. More than once, he woke up at the nemeton with no memory of how he got there. After going missing for an entire day and worrying the fuck out of his dad, Stiles just stopped sleeping. He asked Deaton about it, who said the nightmares and sleep walking to the nemeton are how his powers are dealing with not being used anymore and there’s really nothing either of them can do. So Stiles just doesn’t let himself fall into a deep sleep.

Now that everything has finally died down, Stiles has time to grieve, time to mourn the death of his mate. Which means he pathetically lies in their bed all day, calling Derek’s cell phone over and over just to hear the man’s voice say, “I don’t know why I have to actually leave a message. You should be smart enough to know to leave a message after the beep, and if you don’t know that, then don’t leave a message.”

He’s probably called the cell phone a hundred times. Today while curling himself around Derek’s pillow. It still smells slightly like his mate, but the scent is fading, and it’s constantly wet with his tears.

“Stiles,” someone calls out, and Stiles recognizes it as his best friend’s voice.

“In the bedroom,” Stiles croaks out, his throat dry because he can’t swallow around the lump in it.

Scott comes in, his face sad and worried. “Buddy, I think it’s time,” he says softly.

“Time for what?” Stiles growls out. “Time for me to move on? Scott, he was my _mate_. He was it. There was no one else but Derek. You expect me to move from him in three months?”

Scott shakes his head, sitting next to Stiles on the bed, rubbing his best friend’s back comfortingly. “Not at all, Stiles. I don’t expect you to ever get over him. I’m just saying maybe it’s time to move on, move out of the apartment. Go back to your dad’s place. Maybe even try to date someone new. You and Malia seem to hit it off.”

Stiles snorts. “We made out once when I thought I was going crazy. She was a good kisser, but she’s not Derek.” Stiles knows she’s interested, and it’s still weird seeing someone interested in him, but Stiles doesn’t reciprocate the feelings. Can’t. She’s not Derek.

“No one is Derek,” Scott reminds him.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Stiles sobs, burying his face into his pillow. “There’s no one else for me. I can’t even practice magic anymore.” Deaton had once warned him that losing his mate meant also losing his anchor which means losing his magic. He’s too weak to practice it on his own; he needs the strength Derek gave him to use it, but Derek’s gone. He can’t use it anymore.

Sighing, Scott leans in closer to his best friend, lying on his side and letting Stiles curl into him. “It’s okay, Stiles. Maybe just think about what I said.”

A few hours later, Stiles assures Scott he’s okay enough to be left alone and that yes he’s going to pack, but he doesn’t. He stares at his stuff, stares at Derek’s stuff in the drawers with his. He can’t pack up. He can’t leave this place, the apartment that holds so many of his memories with Derek. He can’t leave Derek behind, not yet.

The next day, the pack comes over, crashing in Stiles’ living room. Scott gives him a sad, knowing look when he sees that Stiles has packed up absolutely nothing. They make a nest of pillows and blankets and couch cushions on the floor in front of the couch. Malia and Kira are slightly more hesitant to join in, but after seeing everyone else pile in together, they relax and join.

Malia ends up on the end next to Stiles, who is next to Scott. Stiles knows his best friend probably planned this, but he’s beyond caring. He just needs his pack and snuggles closer to Scott. On the other side of the alpha is Kira then Lydia then Allison and Isaac is sprawled across the bottom, warming everyone’s feet. It’s exactly what Stiles has needed these last few months, but they haven’t had time for it until things died down. Everything has finally calmed down, which is good. Perfect even.

Hours later, Stiles gets up to get a drink, careful not to jostle anyone because everyone seems to be sleeping. He’s in the kitchen, sipping on water, staring at the oven he hasn’t used in three months because Derek was the cook when Kira walks in.

“Who’s that guy in the pictures with you?” she asks, gesturing to the end table next to the couch that has the only picture of Stiles and Derek that exists in hard copy.

He swallows. “That’s, uh, my…Derek. That’s Derek. He used to live here with me. Did Scott never tell you about him?”

She nods. “He did. I just never knew what he looked like and I thought he was dead?” Her head tilts in confusion, her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“He is,” Stiles tells her, getting confused along with Kira.

“I saw him a couple of months ago,” she explains with a small smile. “He was really helpful. He kinda helped me accept who I am and helped a little with Scott and me.” She blushes slightly, but Stiles doesn’t care. He’s too busy hanging on her words.

“Kira, when exactly did you see him?” His voice is harsh, but this is important. It’s also false hope, but he latches onto it despite knowing that Derek is gone.

She frowns in concentration as she thinks about it. “Um, around the time that the guy kidnapped me and jumpstarted my powers. What was his name? I forgot, uh…” She pauses to think about.

“That’s impossible,” Stiles immediately dismisses. “He died a month before that.”

She shrugs. “Well, he looks exactly like the man in that picture. Beard and leather jacket and all.”

Stiles can’t breathe. He can feel his heart pounding and he _can’t breathe_. “I have to go,” he quickly says and runs out the door. He knows the vet’s office is closed, but he also knows where Deaton lives now that they’ve had extensive, private meetings at his home about supernatural creatures and how to deal with Stiles’ loss of powers.

He starts pounding at the door, knowing how late at night it is, but he has hope, and he’s not going to give this up. Not without a fight, so when the older man opens the door, Stiles just blurts out, “Is it possible that Derek is still alive?”

Deaton’s face softens. “I’ve been waiting for you, Stiles. Come inside. I have some information you may want.”

*

Stiles is stunned. Angry. Excited. All rolled into one. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” Stiles demands, the anger seeping out.

Deaton shrugged. “It’s not the most reliable of sources, and it may just be a rumor.”

“So it’s not reliable enough to check it out?” Stiles asks, losing his hope again. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions.

Deaton shakes his head. “It’s up to you, Stiles. Just know that the hunters in Mexico are not nearly as friendly as the Argents.”

Stiles snorts. “That’s funny considering that the Argents aren’t exactly the nicest.”

“Kate isn’t,” Deaton agrees, and Stiles ignores his use of the present tense for Kate, waving it away as a mistake; it is late at night after all.

Stiles thinks through the information he has. One of Deaton’s sources say they saw Derek Hale in Mexico with the hunters down there. The Calaveras, Deaton had told him. They have him held hostage because they’re not the nice kind of hunters that Chris and Allison are now.

“I have to go,” Stiles decides. “If there’s any hope for him, I have to.”

Deaton nods. “I understand. The Calaveras may not be good people, but they can be bought out.”

Stiles nods, thinking about that. Before he died, Derek had added Stiles to an account. Stiles never looked into it because it didn’t matter at the time, and it was an offhand comment Derek made before he lost his memories. He should probably check it out now. “Sorry for barging in so late,” Stiles tells him, standing up. “I’m sure you understand my eagerness.”

Deaton’s lip twitch into the closest he will ever get to a smile. “Of course. Let me know how everything goes.”

Then Stiles drives back to the apartment where everyone is awake again.

“Stiles,” Scott breathes out, relieved. “Where were you? You left your phone here. You can’t do that to me, okay?” He then pulls the human into a tight hug.

“Sorry, bro,” Stiles apologizes, and Scott pulls back, eyes widening at his voice. “I was at Deaton’s.”

“Stiles,” Scott says slowly, carefully. “You sound happy. What happened?”

Stiles looks over at Kira with a small smile. “Kira saw Derek two months ago.” He pauses letting it sink in for everyone. They all look guarded, like they are too scared of getting their hopes up, just like Stiles was. “I went to Deaton because if anyone is going to have any information on Derek still being alive, it’s our resident veterinarian, right?” He smiles, a weight lifted off his chest because the more he thinks about it, the more he feels how right this is, that Derek _is_ alive. He has to be. “According to one of Deaton’s sources, Derek was spotted a month ago in Mexico. He was captured by the Calaveras.”

Allison gasps, obviously recognizing the name. Her eyes widen in horror. “How do we know they still have him?” she asks, worried.

“Because we have someone they want,” Stiles says slowly, focusing over on his best friend. “They want a meeting with the true alpha.”

That’s how they begin planning. Stiles looks into the account Derek mentioned, gaping at the amount in the account. That’s too much. And Stiles has full access to it. Complete access. He sets aside fifty thousand from it as Derek’s ransom, hoping that’s enough. If not, he can get more; there’s plenty of money for it, and it’s not like Stiles can put a monetary worth on his mate.

They decide it’s for the best to keep this from Laura and Cora, not wanting to give them any hope unless the pack knows for sure that Derek is still alive. Right now, Stiles isn’t sure that he is. He hopes with everything he has that Derek is alive and would bet his life on it because it’s his _mate_ , but that doesn’t mean Stiles knows for sure, and Derek’s sisters don’t deserve to go through losing more of their family again.

A few weeks later when they have everything set up and all that they need, Stiles tells his dad he’s going camping for the weekend, and they drive to Mexico. That’s how they end up in the club owned by the Calaveras. That’s how Stiles learns how to negotiate with hunters, and that you _can’t_. That’s how Scott gets electroshock therapy. But most importantly, that’s how the pack learns that Derek isn’t with the Calaveras. _Anymore_. That’s how the pack learns that Kate Argent is alive, and she has Derek.


	3. It's Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring pack road trip! Really, that's all this chapter is.

The ride back to Beacon Hills is loud. Weird and loud. The backseat is even more cramped because now they have Scott and everyone is bickering and complaining and there’s not a moment of silence.

“Your elbow is in my boob,” Malia practically snarls at Scott, who jerks his elbow away to appease her.

“Now your other one is in my neck,” Lydia informs him. Hers sounds less like a complaint and more like she’s just letting him know.

Then it turns into an all-out yelling contest between Lydia and Malia and Stiles just looks thoroughly annoyed with everyone. Scott and Kira are trying to soothe both sides of the argument.

“We literally picked you up out of the wild,” Lydia snaps. “Who decided it would be a great idea to have a _wild coyote_ in our pack? Are you even human?”

“Are you?” Malia asks. “You don’t seem to have any emotions aside from fear. You’re just scared of everything. At least I fight back.”

“ _Enough_ ,” Stiles shouts, both girls looking at him, shocked. Maybe he never shouts. Then he’s pulling over on the side of the road. “Scott, you’re driving. Derek, we’re sharing the front seat. Kira, please get in between the bickering _children_.” Then he jumps out of the car and Scott scrambles out of the backseat.

Derek unbuckles his seat belt as the passenger door opens and Stiles climbs in, half on his lap. They buckle themselves back up then Stiles wraps an arm around his shoulders giving him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, just thought this might give us more room and less fighting,” he says as he aims a glare to the backseat.

Derek nods. “It’s okay.” He doesn’t want to say how okay it is. “Are you like the alpha of the pack?” Despite Stiles being human and it being incredibly rare, it’s not entirely impossible nor would it be surprising by how much Stiles bosses them around and people listen.

Stiles laughs and Scott pouts, but the edges of his lips are twitching like he’s fighting a smile. “Scott is the alpha. I just have less patience than he does.”

The trip from then on is quieter, but much tenser. Derek isn’t sure how to sit with Stiles practically in his lap. Where do his hands go? Should he lean into the human or try to keep a friendly distance so he doesn’t make it weird. There _is_ still residual awkwardness from last night when he kind of attacked Stiles with kissing and licking when he thought he was dreaming. Stiles never brought it up again because he’s a good person, but Derek still feels awkward about it.

Well, at least Stiles takes the situation out of his hands by falling asleep on him. Derek isn’t sure how he does, considering his position. His head is resting on the seatbelt and he squished himself against the door. Derek just stares in wonder. How is he comfortable enough to sleep? How has his head not fallen off the seatbelt?

Before he knows what he’s doing, Derek is pulling Stiles fully onto his lap, cradling Stiles’ head in his hand and placing it on his shoulder. Stiles hums in his sleep, nuzzling into Derek’s neck and curling in his lap.

Scott looks over, his eyes fond and his smile soft as he takes in Stiles’ position.

“He never looked that comfortable cuddling with me,” Malia points out, eyes narrowed at the two of them.

“Mmm, Der, you’re so comfy,” Stiles slurs, his breath playing across Derek’s neck. He tries snuggling even closer to Derek despite there being very little distance between them. So to help Stiles in his quest to snuggle closer, he wraps his arms around the human, who then lets out a contented sigh as his fingers curl into Derek’s shirt, holding on as tight as he can. “Miss you.”

It’s quiet and perfect. All Derek can smell is overly sweet coffee and _mate_ , the scents that make up Stiles. Then there’s a click that disturbs the moment. Derek looks behind him to see Lydia on her phone, smiling to herself.

“I’m Instagramming this,” she says lightly, and Derek kind of wants to know what Instagramming something is. “You two are adorable together.”

He tries not to blush when Scott says, “Lydia,” in a warning tone. “Supernatural stuff doesn’t go on social networking sites.” His tone is exhausted like he’s had this conversation multiple times already.

“You’d be surprised how much he looks like older Derek from the back,” she tells him. “It’s kind of eerie actually. We’re safe. I promise.”

Scott sighs, giving up the fight, and it’s interesting to see him be the alpha. Derek has never seen such a young (in age and in years of being a werewolf) alpha. He runs his pack very differently than Derek’s mom. Talia Hale was a stricter leader. Scott seems to run his pack with a democracy and with less hierarchy. It’s probably because he’s a bitten ‘wolf; he wasn’t raised with werewolf etiquette like Derek was. He thinks his mom would like this alpha despite his obvious lack of experience.

In the back, Kira starts up a conversation with Derek, keeping it light.

“Can you tell what I am?” she asks, curiosity coloring her face.

“Kitsune, right?” Derek says, not entirely sure he got the pronunciation or even the word right. His mom liked to make him study supernatural creatures so that he’s prepared if he ever comes across them. It involves a lot of reading, which Derek doesn’t mind; he loves reading.

She gives him a genuine smile and nods. “How did you know? Scott is horrible at explaining these things.”

Scott ducks his head his head and gives a sheepish smile like he knows full well that he’s bad at explaining it. Derek wonders if bitten wolves are less in tune with their senses. He doesn’t have much experience with them, so he’s curious.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure how to explain it to a non-wolf,” Derek starts, not wanting to disappoint her, “but it’s kind of like an aura I can see around you if I concentrate on it. It’s in the shape of a fox and there’s a certain smell that I’ve never encountered and I connected it with the fox aura-thing.” He stops, looking back at her, nervous for her reaction. He doesn’t know if he explained it well enough or if it met her expectations. He hopes so.

She’s beaming at him, looking delighted with _him_. “That’s so _awesome_. Thank you!”

“Can you tell I’m a coyote?” Malia asks, her head titled slightly.

“Let’s play a game of 20 Questions with Derek now that he’s not too grumpy to speak in full sentences,” Lydia comments in a bored tone.

Scott is the only one who laughs at that, and Derek wants to know what it’s funny. Instead of asking, he answers Malia’s question.

“Uh, yeah, I did. I’ve come across a couple of coyotes before,” he says. “I don’t know what Lydia is, though. She’s not human, but I don’t recognize her scent. It’s like death, but not as bad smelling, I guess?” He’s unsure of himself again since he doesn’t actually know what he’s talking about. He and his mom never talked about this scent before, so he doesn’t know what creature to connect her to.

“She’s a banshee,” Stiles answers.

Derek barely stops himself from jumping in surprise that Stiles is not only awake but listening to the conversation. He wonders what Stiles thought of the conversation, if he thinks Derek is smart or not. He looks at the human, who is already looking back, interest lighting up his eyes and a smile tugging on his lips.

“She can sense when someone is about to die, which would explain the death scent,” Stiles finishes and then yawns. “Thanks for letting me use you as a bed, man. Oh, and whoever took a picture of me and Derek cuddling,” he throws a pointed look at Lydia, who looks away innocently,” send it to me. I may need to remind our Derek that he doesn’t hate me nor does he want to rip my throat out with his teeth.”

Derek tries not to let himself be disappointed at the _our Derek_ comment. He knows they all want him back to normal. Maybe he’s better when he’s older. Maybe he doesn’t talk as much. Maybe he’s less nervous and knows more things and is more helpful. Right now he doesn’t seem like he would add much to the pack. Hopefully the older version of himself does.

They stop soon after that to stretch out their legs and to grab lunch at a diner. According to Stiles, they’re halfway to Beacon Hills.

“I’m gonna go call my dad,” Stiles mumbles, frowning at his phone. “Derek, come with me. He may need proof.”

“Your dad knows?” Derek asks, eyes widening. “Is he a human?”

Stiles smiles at him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him off to the side. “Yeah, he’s human, and he knows. I had to tell him a while back when I became supernatural myself.”

Derek’s head tilts in confusion. “You smell human.”

Stiles smirks at that, pulling out his phone and dialing what Derek assumes is his dad’s number. “That’s the point, little D.”

Right as Derek is about to ask about it, his dad answers. “ _Stiles_ ,” the man growls into the phone, making the man in question wince.

“I know I’m sorry, okay?” he starts out with.

“You’re _sorry_?” his dad asks, incredulous. “How was camping? _In Mexico_? You thought I wouldn’t notice the notebook where you wrote all of your plans? Why are you on a wild goose chase? I know how hard it is, kid, but you have to accept what happened.”

“You’re not gonna believe it, Dad,” Stiles whispers softly, his voice breaking on the next sentence. “They had, Derek.”

“Did you get Derek?” his dad asks, his tone shifting entirely, and there’s something like concern in it and happiness. Derek wonders why Stiles’ dad is happy about this. “Is he okay?”

Stiles looks over at Derek, studying him closely. “Umm, Derek, are you okay?” he asks, and Derek nods. “He’s okay, but it’s super weird because Derek is seventeen again.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe it,” the man says dryly.

“Do you want proof?” Stiles asks. “Because he’s right here. It’s like the movie, but I’m guessing figuring out that his wife and kids are more important than a basketball career is going to magically make him his normal age again. I mean, he is a really good basketball player, so they have that in common.”

There’s a long sigh on the other end of the phone. “So everyone is safe? You, Scott, Lydia, Kira, and Malia?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll let Melissa know since she didn’t even get a note. Warn Scott about that. Are you on your way home?”

“We’re about five hours from Beacon Hills,” Stiles tells him, chewing on his lip. “We’re at a diner right now for lunch and then we’re driving straight to Deaton’s, I think.”

Derek perks at that. He recognizes that name. It’s the same name as the man who he went to when he was sick or got shot with a wolfsbane bullet that one time by hunters. Ugh that was such a pain. Maybe the man can tell Derek what happened to his family. They can’t be dead; he would feel his pack missing. Stiles may think they’re dead, but they’re not.

Then Stiles and his dad say their goodbyes, ending the phone call with both of them saying, “I love you.”

“Your dad seems like a good man,” Derek says as they walk towards the entrance to the diner.

Stiles smiles softly. “Yeah, he is. For some reason, he likes you almost as much as he likes me.”

Derek frowns at that. “Do you not like older me?”

Stiles flinches at that, looking up at him and emphatically shaking his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I lov-like older you. We’re kinda friends, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t dislike you. I don’t think I ever could. Again.” Towards the end, his voice started getting softer as he looked away.

Instead of responding, Derek just opens the diner door for him and lets Stiles go first. They easily find the pack sitting in a corner booth near the back. They already have drinks for everyone. Coffee with a ton of sugar for Stiles and black coffee for Derek.

“How did you guys know my coffee order?” Derek asks, sliding in next to Stiles, who is already gulping down his coffee.

“Are you serious?” Stiles sputters out when he puts down his mug. “Your coffee preference hasn’t change in the last however many years it’s been? Wow.”

Derek just shrugs. “I like the taste of coffee unlike you.”

Stiles grins at him and takes another sip of his coffee. “There’s the Derek I know!”

“So game plan,” Scott says, interrupting Derek’s disappointment at Stiles’ words. Stiles likes his older self better than him. And that sentence just doesn’t make sense. This whole situation doesn’t make sense. “What are we going to do to change Derek back?”

“We need to figure out why he’s younger,” Lydia points out, sipping on her iced tea.

Stiles starts chewing on his bottom lip and exuding nerves. “I think I know why,” Stiles whispers, purposefully keeping his gaze from Derek.

“Why?” Scott asks, curious.

“Umm, can we not talk about this?” Stiles asks. “I’d rather talk to Derek about this…” They all look at him expectantly, so he adds on, “ _alone_. We’ll talk about it when we get back to Beacon Hills.”

“So do we still have to see Deaton then?” Kira asks. “If you already know why he’s young?”

Stiles nods. “I don’t know _how_ he changed. Deaton might be able to figure that out. I just know the _why_.”

Scott nods his approval and then they all start looking at the menu, deciding what they want for lunch. Derek can’t stop looking over at Stiles, hoping maybe he could figure out what the human knows.

*

“Deaton has already gone home for the night,” Scott tells them when they pull up to the vet’s office at almost ten at night. They had a couple of other stops on the way, one taking way too long because Lydia was _sure_ she heard weird noises coming from the jeep, so Stiles had to dig through the front of his jeep, trying to find whatever was making the mysterious noise. Stiles swore up and down that nothing was wrong, so they went back on their adventure until Lydia made him stop _again_ because it was _still making the noise_ that no one else could hear.

“Lyds, you sure it isn’t your banshee powers?” Stiles had asked her.

The glare he sent her made Derek shiver in fear.

The vet office is dark and completely empty save for the couple of sleeping animals. “So what now?” Derek asks.

“I’ll drop everyone else off at home,” Stiles answers tiredly. “Or Scott will since he’s been the one driving this whole time.”

“Where’s Derek going to go?” Malia asks, staring at the man in question with suspicion.

“He’ll stay with me,” Stiles mutters absent mindedly as his head drops against Derek’s shoulder, eyes closing. “We need to talk anyway. About the Ka- the reason why he’s young again.”

Dropping everyone off is an easy but long process. Scott jumps out of the jeep when they finally reach his house, giving a sleeping Stiles a fond smile before shouting his name.

“Huh?” Stiles jerks awake, elbowing Derek in the stomach. They both hiss in pain. “How are you this ripped at seventeen? Oh my _god_. I think your abs broke my elbow.”

Derek rolls his eyes as Stiles jumps out of his car, hugging Scott tightly before jumping back into the car while Derek gets used to loss the of warmth Stiles’ body projected onto him.

“Are you even awake enough to drive?” Derek asks.

Stiles scoffs. “I can drive this thing in my sleep. In fact, I have, but we don’t talk about that.” His voice turns soft, edging on dark at the end of the sentence. While Derek wants to know what he’s talking about, he knows that if Stiles doesn’t want to talk about it, Derek isn’t going to force him to talk about it.

“So can we talk about why I’ve been turned into a seventeen year old now?”

There’s a sigh from the driver’s seat as Stiles rests his elbow on the door, setting his cheek in his hand. “I don’t want to, but I guess we have to.” Stiles glances over at Derek, eyes tinged with sadness. “You’re with her, aren’t you?”

Derek freezes, knowing exactly who Stiles is talking about, and how did he completely forget about Kate, the woman who loves him? Oh, right. Because he met his mate, and his mate comes first. “I am,” Derek whispers.

Stiles nods once. “It’s a long story,” he wars, eyes staying focused on the road. “And it’s not pretty. Kate’s not who you think she is.”

“I know she’s an Argent,” Derek snaps.

The human doesn’t even flinch and seems to manage to look even sadder. “She’s bad, Der, okay? Like _bad_. The worst. I can’t think of anybody worse than her.”

Derek wants to growl at him and yell, but he doesn’t say, doesn’t respond.

Stiles sighs as he pulls into a parking space at an apartment complex. He grips the wheel tighter, sliding his hands over it nervously. “She killed your family,” Stiles whispers. “Everyone. Your mom, your dad…everyone except Cora, Laura, and Peter.”

“Everyone?” Derek whispers, listening closely to Stiles’ heart for it to skip a beat. Stiles has to be lying. He has to be.

Stiles nods somberly. “It was on the lunar eclipse.”

“But that’s when the whole family gets together,” Derek mumbles, thinking about it. It’s only in a month, and they’ve already planned it all out. “Strength in numbers. The hunters vowed to not to attack on that day.”

“Kate doesn’t follow any kind of code except the one she made up in her head,” Stiles says darkly, lip curling as he glares out the windshield.

“So my family is dead,” Derek repeats slowly.

“And you’re seventeen again because Kate wants to use you,” Stiles continues to explain, turning in his seat to face the werewolf. “I don’t know why she does, but this you trusts her and still defends her obviously. So. I want you to not do anything she says? Ugh. No. I don’t wanna boss you around and make you hate me when I finally just got you back.” Stiles buries his face in his hand and groans. “Let’s go in. I’m tired. You’re probably tired. And our apartment is much more comfortable than my jeep.”

“Our apartment?” Derek catches, but Stiles is already jumping out of the jeep, so Derek hurries to follow, still trying to process all the information.

Stiles unlocks a door and opens it to reveal an apartment that smells overwhelmingly of Stiles with hints of the pack and buried underneath it is _Derek’s_ scent. But why does it smell like him? He’s never been here before, right?

Neither of them speak once inside the apartment. Stiles is under a routine of him putting his wallet and keys on the table by the door while toeing off his shoes and then going into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, and it’s just so domestic. He’s a teenager, who seems to have a good relationship with his dad, but he doesn’t live with his dad? Why doesn’t he live with his dad?

“Our apartment?” Derek asks again because it seems like an important question now.

Stiles chokes on the water he’s drinking, most of it spilling from his mouth to his shirt. “Uh. Why do you say that?”

“You called it ‘our’ apartment. Not your apartment. Ours.”

Stiles blinks at him as he blindly caps the bottle and puts it on the counter. “Did I say that? Weird that I would say that because this is my apartment.”

His heartbeat skips like he’s lying, and it’s the first time Derek has caught him in a lie. “That was a lie,” Derek immediately points out.

Stiles huffs out a breath, sounding tired. “I had a roommate. He doesn’t live here anymore. Did you find the lie in that?” He raises an eyebrow, eyes hard as he challenges Derek.

Derek looks, biting his bottom lip. “No, no lie in that,” he whispers, but then another thought fills his head, bringing up his courage again. “But why would you say _our_? You would only say that if I were your roommate, but I wasn’t.”

“You were,” Stiles brokenly whispers. “Okay? You happy? You were my roommate. You’re not anymore. It’s really a lovely story. An icebreaker that I use at parties now. Wanna hear about how my roommate moved out?”

“It was recent?” Derek asks.

Stiles nods but doesn’t give more answer than that. “I’m tired. It’s been a long two days getting you back. I would offer you my bed, but it smells too much like me for you to probably be comfortable.”

“You’re my mate,” Derek mumbles. “Your smell would never make me uncomfortable.”

Stiles looks at him for a long moment, his stare intense like he’s holding back from saying something…everything. “Then it’s your pick,” he deflects with a shrug, moving his eyes to the water bottle. “Bed or couch. I don’t care. I’m fond of either really.”

Derek just moves to the couch, toeing off his own sneakers.

“Do you wanna borrow a pair of sweatpants?” Stiles asks. “We look about the same size.”

Derek shrugs, not in the mood to talk anymore. Stiles doesn’t force him to, just goes to his room and comes out with a pair of sweatpants, drops it on the couch, and goes back into his room, closing the door. Derek suspects they’re done for the night, which is well enough because he has plans, and it’s better if Stiles is sleeping because Stiles would stop him. And he probably could.

But Derek needs to find out what happened to his family. They’re not dead, okay? They’re _not_.


	4. Feel So Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a year late...life happens and such. but here's this. and the next update will arrive when it arrives...

Stiles doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t anymore. It’s a very well-known fact within the pack. Everyone knows except Derek. Derek used to know better than anyone, but now he doesn’t know anything about Stiles, and fuck. Was it this heartbreaking for Derek a few months ago when Stiles didn’t remember him? Because this fucking sucks. Stiles never imagined it being so bad.

But Derek knows nothing about him.

Stiles finally got his mate back, but he didn’t get Derek. Not entirely. He feels cheated, angry. This isn’t _his_ Derek. It’s Kate’s Derek, and maybe that’s why he’s mad. It’s probably all jealousy, but it all fucking sucks, and he hates it all and just wants to punch something. Stupid fucking Kate trying to ruin Derek’s life _again_. Hasn’t she had enough with him? Like move the fuck on already.

So yeah. Stiles doesn’t sleep, but this time it has less to do with the nightmares and missing Derek and more to do with he’s too angry to sleep. He wants to find Kate, make her feel the pain she’s made Derek feel, but he can’t because she’s a psychopath who probably isn’t even able to feel what Derek can. So that would just be a waste of time.

And now that Derek’s back, Stiles can feel his magic again, can feel the energy surging through his veins. Well not _surging_ more like slowly making its way through him like its getting used to his body again. It’s very weird, but also very revitalizing. Stiles didn’t know he’d ever get in touch with his magic again since Derek was gone. He just thought he would feel it on the edge, knowing it’s there but being unable to touch it. Now it’s just within reach, and it’s getting closer to his fingertips. And it’s an exhilarating feeling, having his magic so close again. Weird because he’s never felt anything like this before, but a good weird, a necessary weird, a weird that is occurring because of good things. Good things being Derek is alive.

And then he has to let that sink in.

Derek is alive.

 _Derek_ is alive.

Derek is _alive_ as in not dead like Stiles thought he was. His mate is back and physically healthy. Not mentally all there. But physically healthy, and that’s what’s most important right now is that _Derek is alive_ and _not dead_. Him not being dead is really fantastic actually. Best development in Stiles’ life. Really. Excellent plot-twist.

So he just needs to focus on that, on Derek being _alive_. He’s not going to focus on Derek being seventeen again and having no idea who Stiles is. Nope not focusing on that. Not focusing on Kate or any hunters or the front door of his apartment opening.

 _Wait_.

The front door of his apartment opening? He waits a second to make sure he heard correctly and then hears it softly click shut. Within seconds, Stiles is out of bed and running to the front room to check on Derek. No _way_ is he losing him already. Fuck. No.

But Derek’s already gone, the sweatpants Stiles gave him still folded on the couch. He must’ve left voluntarily.

“Shit,” Stiles hisses. He should’ve seen this coming honestly. He knows Derek better than anyone else in Beacon Hills, and he really hasn’t changed much since he was seventeen. Of _course_ Stiles should’ve been prepared.

Well, there was a reason he was never a Boy Scout.

He quickly pulls his pants and shoes on and dashes out of the apartment, knowing exactly where to go because where else would Derek go right now?

When he pulls onto Hale property, he parks and walks the rest of the way, hoping Derek will recognize his scent when he gets close enough. The early morning hours are always eerily quiet, even in the woods. Stiles hates being in the woods at night, nothing good ever happens. But he’s feeling better now that he’s closer to his magic, and Derek is nearby. But still. Derek died in these woods. They’re not bringers of good. Or whatever.

There’s a loud howl not too far from Stiles, and once he hears it, he books it running. He runs as fast as he can, which isn’t as fast as he used to be able to. Guess Derek was kind of a good motivation for staying fit when he was alive.

“Derek!” Stiles calls out as he gets closer.

The howl slowly dies out, and the noise filling it is much more heartbreaking. Derek’s sobs fill the forest, making Stiles run even faster until he collapses by his mate’s side, pulling the werewolf into his chest.

“Shh, Der. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Stiles whispers over and over, rocking them slightly. Derek grips onto his shirt tightly as his shoulders shake with the loud sobs. Tears pricks at Stiles’ own eyes as he holds Derek as tight as he can. “It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_ okay,” Derek growls. “My family is dead. _My family is dead_.” Derek looks up at him, eyes bright blue and fangs out as he glares at Stiles. “It’s not okay,” he whispers, voice cracking.

Stiles’ heart is breaking and fuck. He’s never had to deal with Derek openly grieving his family like this. It’s always been a scabbed over wound, not fresh like it is for this Derek. “No, it’s not okay,” Stiles says, voice hard, running a hard through his mate’s hair. “Your family is dead, and that’s in no way okay. But you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. In the future? You’re okay.”

“Then why did I move away from my mate?” Derek asks. “Why am I young again when I’m obviously not supposed to be? Why are you keeping things from me? God, Stiles. Everything is so far from okay, and I don’t understand any of it. I just want to go home. I would give _anything_ to see any of them again.”

The words hit him hard, so Stiles closes his eyes, staying silent to encourage Derek to keep going.

“I didn’t ask for this. None of them deserve it. I should’ve been the one to go. I should’ve died, not them. I’m the one who killed an innocent. I’m the one with blue eyes. They shouldn’t be gone. _I should be dead_ …I wish I was.”

“ _No_ ,” Stiles cries out, eyes flying open. “You already did that to me. Don’t fucking do it again, do you hear me, Derek Hale?” He grabs Derek’s face, pulling it up so he can level with the werewolf. “Do you know how much I went through to get you back? You are not allowed to die on me again. As selfish as this is, _you can’t do that to me again_. I will not survive it. So please. _Please_. Stay here for me. Stay here for anything you find reason to. God please don’t go away again. I love you. I need you. Don’t leave me again.” His voice breaks, and he’s crying. He can’t feel embarrassed about it as he stares into Derek’s own red, tear stained face. “ _Please_ ,” he softly whispers.

Derek stares at him for a long moment, silent as Stiles’ eyes pour more tears. He’s confused, and Stiles knows the feeling, remembering how it was when he didn’t have his memories and seeing a man who loved him so much and having no recollection of how or why.

Slowly but surely, Derek’s hands frame Stiles’ face as his eyes widen. “ _Stiles_ ,” he whispers like the name on his lips is something to worship when it’s really just Stiles’ name. Not a big deal, but something in Derek’s tone tells him it is a big deal. And then there are demanding lips on his and words are useless. The force of it knocks Stiles down onto his back, Derek lying on top of him.

Their lips move against each other hard and knowing, like Derek remembers exactly how to kiss Stiles. He can’t think about that, though. He can only focus on his mate on him again, the magic surging through him – surging is actually the right word this time. He can touch his magic, but more importantly, he can touch his mate. And he does. Damn straight he does.

His hands shakily slide down Derek’s back, not recognizing the feel of it, but still knowing the man’s body well enough to know his entire back arches into Stiles if he digs his fingers into Derek’s lower back. The body may be younger, but it’s the same body that has the same reactions.

“Stiles,” Derek whispers again in the same tone.

“Derek?” Stiles questions, swallowing hard and looking up into the blue eyes above him. “You’re back?”

The man shakes his head. “I remember bits and pieces, but nowhere near everything.”

Stiles sighs. “But that’s good. Progress. And kissing. Both are very, _very_ good in my book.”

Derek scoffs, burying his face in Stiles’ neck. “I can’t believe they’re gone.”

Unsure of what to say, Stiles just rubs his back, knowing that’s one the better ways to comfort Derek. “They’re gone, but you still have Laura and Cora, and you have me now. You have a pack, a small one, but you have one again.”

Derek sighs, relaxing into Stiles’ touch. “Can we go back to the apartment?”

“Of course,” Stiles says softly, waiting for Derek to stand up before he pushes himself up.

“Can I have the bed?” Derek asks. “Since it smells like you?”

Stiles nods, reaching over to grab his mate’s hand. “At this point, I will give you anything you want, Der.”

“Can I have you?” He looks over at Stiles, eyes wide with hope and vulnerable like he’s scared of rejection.

Stiles gives him a small smile and tugs him closer so he can wrap his arms around the stupid werewolf. “You already have me.”

Derek blushes, ducking his head. “No, in the bed. Can I have you in the bed with me tonight?”

Stiles’ smile widens. “You can have me in bed all the nights. Every night. _Please_. I’m so, so tired of sleeping alone.”

“Lovers never sleep alone,” Derek tells him softly, and Stiles couldn’t agree more.

*

Waking up next to Derek, the werewolf slightly curled into him is heaven. It’s something Stiles missed the most. Just the physical of presence of Derek is calming and desperately craved by Stiles. And doing it three times in two days? It’s exactly how the world should be. Everything feels _right_.

Except the heavy body sitting on his chest. That definitely doesn’t feel right.

“Stiles, _wake up_!” Scott whines, bouncing the bed slightly with his knees.

“No,” Stiles mumbles. “Sleep good. Sleep better than you.”

“We have to go to Deaton’s,” Scott reminds him.

“Fuck off,” Derek grumbles, nuzzling his face into Stiles’ shoulder so much that it ends up between Stiles and the bed, hiding the world from view.

God Stiles really missed him.

Scott grimaces down at him and then pokes his face. “You know, if we don’t do this soon, Derek will be too young for you. It’d be illegal.”

Stiles scoffs. “Because it wasn’t four months ago.”

The alpha beams down at him, and Stiles hates his best friend right now, but at least he’s climbing off the bed now and leaving the room, talking over his shoulder. “Meet us at Deaton’s in half an hour. If you’re not there, I’m sending Isaac’s pouty face here.”

Stiles groans, knowing exactly how powerful Isaac’s pouty face can be. It’s sad and it makes Stiles want to go adopt all of the homeless puppies in the entire world. How a face makes him feel that, he’s not entirely sure. He thinks it may be a superpower that Isaac just has. No it’s not the cheekbones…it’s definitely the lips. No one’s lips should ever be that pouty. Not fair.

Derek sighs with contentment when Scott’s out of the apartment, and he snuggles closer to Stiles, reaching down to lace their fingers together. “Sleep,” he mumbles.

Stiles kisses the top of his mate’s head and squeezes his fingers. “We gotta go, little dude. Deaton can help you reach Derek level 3.”

“Level 3?” Derek wonders, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

He doesn’t coo. He doesn’t because that's emasculating and rude, but Derek is _so adorable._ How can anyone blame Stiles for cooing? “Yeah, level 3. Right now you’re at level 2, really close to level 3, but you’ve got to level up to get back to where you’re supposed to be.”

“So you don’t like me like this?” His eyes are still closed, but Stiles can see his lips pout slightly.

“Nah, I like my boyfriends older than me. Beard burn is slightly addicting weirdly enough.” But maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say because Derek’s lips just downturn even more. Stiles slides down the bed so he’s at eye level with his mate, their foreheads pressed together and legs tangling. “Der,” he says softly, poking at his cheek until the werewolf opens his eyes with a flash of blue in annoyance before they return to normal. “You know I love you no matter what you look like or what age you are, right? That doesn’t matter to me. But I wouldn’t mind you having all of your memories back. If Deaton can’t do anything, I won’t be upset. Disappointed maybe, but we can work through this. We’ve done it before. You and me, we’re in it for the long run, and I don’t give up easily.”

Derek searches his eyes for something, maybe to check if Stiles is serious, and he’s as serious as a heart attack. Everything in Derek relaxes again as he smiles softly, pressing his lips against Stiles’ carefully like he’s not sure he’s allowed to do that, but he is. He so is. He’s gone four months without this, and he refuses to go any more time without Derek’s lips on his.

Except that they have places to be, so Stiles quickly slides out of Derek’s reach because he knows if he stays any longer, he won’t actually leave. Then Isaac will come over with his pouty face and just…no.

They get dressed, Derek borrowing Stiles’ clothes since his clothes are a little too big on him. Not that either of them complain. Derek has always liked mixing their scents, and Stiles just like the feeling of seeing his boyfriend in his clothes. It may be a little possessive on both of their parts.

Once they’re finally on their way, Derek doesn’t stop touching him. His hand holding Stiles’ or resting on his thigh. It’s a comforting weight, reminding Stiles that Derek is right there. And it’s an amazing feeling after months without it.

At Deaton’s, the man actually smiles when they walk into the examining room where Scott, Kira, Allison, and Isaac already are. “Derek, it’s good to see you.”

Derek gives him a half smile. “You too.”

“So, Doc,” Stiles says, jumping up on the counter and swinging his legs, Derek stepping closer to him so their shoulders are leaning against each other. “What’s the diagnosis?”

Deaton studies Derek for a moment. “You have no memories past the age of seventeen, correct?”

Derek nods once. "There are few cropping up here and there, but it's still pretty scarce."

“How is your control? I remember you having trouble with it around this age.”

A blush heats up Derek’s cheeks as he looks at the ground. Stiles wraps an arm around his neck, his thumb brushing across his jawline. “I’ve been working on it,” Derek admits. “It’s not as good as it could be, but I think I might be able to control it.”

“You have an anchor?” Deaton asks.

Derek nods once.

“Yeah, isn’t it anger?” Stiles asks, remembering Derek's anchor before him.

Derek looks up at him, eyes wide. “Not anymore, no.”

Stiles frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. “Oh?”

“I met my mate,” he whispers even though everyone can still hear him.

Stiles leans closer, his forehead resting against the side of his mate’s head as he presses his lips to Derek’s un-stubbled cheek softly. “And I’m not going anywhere,” he promises under his breath so no one overhears them unless they really try, and he knows Scott, Isaac, and Kira will let them have their moment.

Derek smiles softly even as Stiles moves away, keeping his arm where it is as Derek leans into him more.

“So you got any info for us?” Stiles asks.

The corners of Deaton’s mouth downturn. “Do we know who did this?”

Stiles nods once. “I know the who and the why. I don’t know the how.”

Deaton studies Derek for a moment longer like he’s thinking through all the information and trying to piece it together. “Hmm,” he says under his breath and then walks into his office and digs around there for a few minutes. Everyone remains quiet and uneasy until Deaton comes back with a book. He holds up with a small smirk. “One of the very few you haven’t stolen from me,” he says, looking pointedly at Stiles.

Stiles blushes, looking down with a shrug. The books are so interesting and he needed to collect the information. He’s going to return them…he just hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

“I believe the spell used on Derek is in this book,” Deaton continues, setting the book on the metal table and turning through the pages. “Knowing the spell may help us in learning how to find the spell to fix him or an antidote.” He’s silent for a moment and then stops on the page, eyes roaming over it before his eyes flick up to Stiles. “Do you think your magic will be strong enough for this?”

Derek looks up, frowning as Stiles bites on his lip to think it over. He can feel his magic; it’s there, and it’s closer than it has been in months. Stiles shakes his head. “I have no idea. I may need to start back at the basics again and work my way up. I need to get used to having it again. It may take a couple days to get it back to where it was before... And then however long to build it up to where it needs to for this spell.”

Deaton nods his head in understanding and picks the book up to set in Stiles’ lap. Stiles reads over it, trying to estimate how much magic it would take to cast the spell. Not a lot is what he’s gathering, but it can't be that easy. Nothing ever is.

“The antidote or undoing spell will be harder, won’t it?” Stiles asks, looking back up at Deaton.

He gives a rueful smile. “It’s much easier taking someone’s memories than giving them.”

“But how do I age him?” Stiles wants to bite his tongue because Derek flinches at the question, but he needs to know if it’s possible. If it’s not, he’ll live with it. Happily if it means Derek will be right beside him.

Deaton goes back to studying Derek for a minute before basically shrugging. “I can't sense any strong magic, which would happen if it were a more permanent de-aging spell. I’m thinking that whatever made him younger will wear off eventually. Whether that takes one day, week, or a year, I’m not sure.”

Stiles’ eyes narrow. “So helpful as always, Doc.”

Deaton gives him a rueful smile. “Happy to be of service.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and pats Derek on the shoulder before clutching the book to his chest and jumping off the counter.

“It was Kate, wasn’t it?” Deaton asks after Isaac, Scott, Kira, and Allison have filed out.

Derek tenses in front of Stiles, so he pats his mate on the back. “Go ahead with the others,” Stiles whispers. “I’ll talk to Deaton.”

Derek nods and goes into the waiting room without looking back as Stiles turns around to face the veterinarian.

“So you knew she was alive too?” Stiles accuses because really. Deaton just likes to keep everything to himself. “Should I just assume that when someone dies, they never stay dead? Is Peter around here somewhere because I swear to all of the deities that if we have to kill him again, I’m officially done with this supernatural shit, and I’m gonna retire in like Alaska or some remote island very, _very_ far away.”

The man doesn’t look fazed at all, but then again, when does he? “I hear rumors. I don’t relay the rumors until I have evidence that suggest they’re accurate. Derek was a rumor, and I wasn’t going to get your hopes up in a case of false information, Stiles. Kate is a rumor, and I wasn’t going to alarm Scott in the same way. But she is alive, and she isn’t human anymore. What is she?”

“A jaguar? That’s what the Calaveras told us.” Stiles lets out a breath of air. “Nothing is normal anymore and nothing makes sense. She’s coming to Beacon Hills, but we don’t know when or why or what for. I think she’s going to want to use Derek.”

“Then you can’t leave him alone,” Deaton warns. “Kate is smart. She knows how packs work now and likely knows your value to the packs. I don’t know how she figured it out, but she did, and that makes her a very dangerous hunter.”

Stiles rolls his eyes because he knows exactly how Kate gathered her information on packs, the fucking bitch. His head turns to look at the door between the examining room and the waiting room, the only thing separating him from Derek now. For just a moment, he closes his eyes and relishes in the way he can feel his mate, feel his mood. Even if he is a little worried, at least Derek is _alive_.

He turns back to Deaton, his eyes open and hard, his voice deeper than normal as he says, “Yeah, well her going after my mate is a dangerous move.”


	5. Can't Seem To Leave Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Derek goes back to high school only so Stiles can have the normal high school couple experience. Only reason honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay wow. long time no update. *coughs* sorry hope this makes up for it

His head is mess right now. Memories are jumbled and half formed at best. There are bits of living in New York with Laura and then suddenly any memory after that is in Beacon Hills, but he’s not sure why he returned to Beacon Hills. Then pieces of Stiles and his relationship with Stiles.

Most of what he remembers of Stiles is his feelings for him, and the strong need to be near his mate. He’s so glad that somehow over the course of the last 5 years, Stiles learned about werewolves and mates. He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but it did, and it makes things a lot easier for him now.

When Stiles comes out of Deaton’s office, his face is hard and tight, but once he notices Derek’s gaze, he smiles at him like everything just melted away at the sight of him. It didn’t, though. Derek can smell the anger and feel it (his mom did tell him that mate bonds could do that) coming off of Stiles.

“You okay?” Derek asks when Stiles is close enough.

His mate quickly nods, his smile tightening. “Yup. Peachy. We should go get lunch. I’m starving.”

The pack decides to go to a local café for lunch and squeeze into a booth, not inviting Lydia and Malia because they’re both in school. Derek is assuming the rest of them are skipping the day and briefly wonders why the other two girls didn’t.

“What are we going to do with Derek during school?” Isaac asks once they’re settled.

Stiles snaps his head up from where he was looking at the menu with confusion. “Oh fuck,” he sighs and rubs his forehead. “I totally forgot school is a thing that I have to regularly attend.”

“And I need to do better this semester,” Scott tells the table, his tone serious. “I can’t be missing every day like I was last semester.”

Stiles scrunches his face at that. “Yeah, me neither. Uh…damnit.”

“What?” Derek asks. “I can’t just stay in the apartment? What did I normally do when you were in school?”

Stiles snorts. “Like I know. I wasn’t there. I’m assuming you hung out with Laura and Cora. Did wolfy things maybe. No idea. But we can’t leave you alone now.”

“Because of Kate?” he asks.

The reactions are almost in sync when he says that name. Isaac reaches over and grabs Allison’s hand. Scott tenses up and watches Derek closely like he’s waiting for a reaction from him. Stiles’ hand lands on Derek’s thigh under the table like he’s ready to give comfort.

“You _all_ know?” Derek almost can’t believe it.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t,” Kira informs him, smiling despite her confusion. “I’ve heard the name before and I assume she’s bad?”

“The worst,” Stiles quickly corrects, his lip curling like he’s going to growl. Derek wonders how long Stiles has been around werewolves and if it’s been long enough for Stiles to pick up their habits. It’s not entirely impossible.

“I didn’t know Kate was behind this,” Scott answers quietly, looking at the table.

Stiles nods his head. “Yeah, I’m suspecting she wants to use Derek for something and needed him back to when he trusted her.”

“Only Kate,” Allison mumbles, her eyes set in a glare that is focused on something behind Derek’s head.

Stiles’ hand tightens on Derek’s thigh unconsciously, and Derek can feel his anger again. “You really hate her that much for what she did to me?” Derek asks quietly.

His mate looks at him shocked. “Is that not enough reason to hate her? She’s an awful person for what she did – sorry, Ally – and I’m not going to let her hurt you again. Over my dead body.”

Derek immediately frowns. “No dying.”

The hand on his thigh relaxes minutely. “No dying,” Stiles agrees, the anger softening inside him. “For us at least.”

“Stiles,” Scott warns gently but stops when the waitress comes to their table and takes their order.

“Shouldn’t you all be in school?” she asks, teasingly.

“Don’t tell my dad,” Stiles faux whispers at her, winking at her.

She laughs once and rolls her eyes. “If the worst you guys are doing is skipping school to have lunch together then I’m sure your dad doesn’t need to know.”

Stiles’ answering smile is bright and beaming, and Derek has to take all of his self-control to not get jealous. Besides, Stiles’ hand is still on his thigh, his shoulder leaning into Derek. There’s no reason to doubt where Stiles’ affections lie.

Still, Derek slides his hand over Stiles’. Not because he’s jealous. Really. He just likes touching his mate. Completely innocent.

When Derek looks over at Stiles, he’s already looking back with a smirk on his face and a mischievous gleam to his eyes. Maybe not completely innocent.

*

“I’m not going back to high school,” Derek immediately argues. Stiles proposed the idea the second they got back to the apartment.

“Well, you can’t stay here the whole day,” Stiles points out. “Alone. Unprotected.”

Derek groans and sinks into the couch, _not_ pouting. He isn’t. “You make me sound like some vulnerable, weak damsel in distress who needs to be taken care of.”

With a smirk, Stiles walks towards him and lowers himself onto Derek’s lap. “I will definitely take care of you, baby.”

Derek snorts at him and shoves him off his lap and onto the couch. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Always an idiot for you,” Stiles tells him, kicking at Derek softly. “But seriously, Der. There’s no stopping her from getting in here, so you should go to school with me. Where I can keep an eye on you. We can say you’re my cousin, Miguel, from Mexico.”

Amusement colors Stiles’ face, and he looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Derek feels like he’s missing some inside joke, and the second Stiles realizes he doesn’t get it, his face falls. So Derek _is_ missing an inside joke.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Stiles asks, his voice soft, unsure. His eyes dart away from Derek like he doesn’t want him to know that he’s upset.

“No,” Derek mumbles. “But if I was your cousin we wouldn’t be able to do this at school.” He leans over where Stiles is still lying on the couch and presses his lips to Stiles’ throat. “Or this,” he whispers, licking up Stiles’ neck to nip at his jaw.

“Fuck,” Stiles sighs, sliding a hand into Derek’s hair and guiding him to his lips. Once they’re kissing, Stiles arches into it with his whole body like there isn’t anything else he would rather be doing this second, and it’s an exhilarating feeling for Derek.

Kissing Kate was nothing like this. Her kisses were reluctant, lazy as if she was just doing it for him. Stiles kisses with his whole body, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist like they can’t get close enough even with their torsos pressed together. He opens up easily, letting Derek lick into his mouth. There are moans and gasps and a reaction to every little thing Derek does to him.

When Stiles pulls back, he’s breathless and his eyes are wide with excitement. “Definitely not my cousin. Good thinking.”

“You don’t just keep me around because I’m pretty,” Derek jokes, nosing at Stiles’ throat and taking in his scent, their scents mingling.

“Nope, but you are really nice to look at. It’s definitely a factor.” His fingers start playing around with Derek’s hair, twirling the strands and scratching his nails gently over his scalp as if he knows that’s all it takes for Derek to melt into him.

And well, he probably _does_ know that. Despite having some of his memories, Stiles still knows Derek way better than he knows him.

*

“Tyler?” Coach Finstock says dubiously, squinting his eyes at Derek suspiciously. Derek can’t believe the guy is still here and has yet to be committed or fired or quit, any of the three are just as likely. “You look familiar.”

“Maybe you’re just going crazy, Coach,” Stiles suggest from his desk in the front row.

“Shut it, Bilinski!” the coach yells, not even looking at Stiles to do it. “Well, Tyler. You look athletic. Any chance you’ll be signing up for sports? Lacrosse, maybe? Could always use players that don’t just _warm the bench, Stilinski._ ”

“I don’t even have a defense to that,” Stiles admits. “Mainly because I’m too shocked that you got my name right.”

Coach rolls his eyes and waves Derek off. “Go sit down and let me mold your mind.”

Derek isn’t really sure that’s what he wants, but Stiles winks at him and tilts his head back slightly, gesturing at the desk behind him.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend, Stilinski?” a kid in the third row asks. “Leave some for the rest of us.”

Stiles snorts. “I’m a dude magnet.”

“God only knows how,” the guy mumbles, sending Stiles a half-hearted glare.

“Besides, flirting doesn’t hurt anyone, does it?” Stiles turns around to give Derek a smile. “Hi, I’m Stiles. Tyler, right? Ever need any help, I’m your guy.”

Derek rolls his eyes at him. “I don’t flirt with guys who are taken.”

With a gasp, Stiles clutches his chest. “I’m wounded, Tyler. Wounded. But gotta respect it.”

The guy in the third row leans to the side closer to Derek. “I’m Danny. Definitely not taken.”

“I definitely am,” Derek responds. “Nice to meet you, though.”

Danny disappointedly leans back into his seat, and Derek can feel the smugness radiating from Stiles.

“Damn right you’re taken,” his mate whispers under his breath so that only Derek can hear. And Scott too judging by the way he coughs, trying to cover his laugh.

That’s when Coach starts yelling at all of them to pay attention so he can teach them properly. Not that Derek can follow any of what the man is saying despite taking this same exact class in high school. It feels like it’s barely been a week since he’s been in Finstock’s economics class. In his head, it only has been a week since he’s sat in this classroom.

Being in high school again is the worst. There are too many people, way too much noise, and the scents are just overpowering. So many hormones floating through the air Derek walks through. Stiles walks next to him, keeping up a constant chatter of whatever topic has caught his fancy in the moment.

“Forgot everyone knows that I had an older boyfriend,” Stiles says, changing the subject from not wanting to know about Finstock’s frostbitten testicle to this. “I was kind of a zombie through school the last couple months. Faked a lot of everything and avoided any kind of social interaction. There was a lot going on outside of school too so.” Stiles shrugs, looking forward and very purposefully not looking at Derek.

“Stiles,” Derek calls his name softly. “It’s okay. I’m here again, remember?”

Stiles nods his head as they stop in front of Derek’s locker. He leans against the locker next to Derek’s and watches him closely as Derek starts stuffing textbooks and notebooks into it. “It’s not like I forget, but no one else really knew you were gone. We’ve gotten so used to lying about the supernatural that we just don’t think about telling the truth. Guess it turned out to be a good idea since, you know, people never stay dead.”

Derek pulls his head out to give Stiles a dry look. “You guys talk about this openly at school? And no one has caught on yet?”

“No one listens to me,” Stiles admits. “I already have a very strong reputation as someone who talks a lot but says nothing. No one takes me seriously.”

Derek can’t ignore how Stiles’ voice drips with bitterness on the last sentence. He tries to think of what to say, what words would be best to comfort his mate, but he doesn’t have them. Instead, he just reaches over and grabs Stiles’ hand for a moment before releasing it. “It’s just high school anyway,” Derek tells him as he shuts his locker. “No one can be taken seriously here.”

It’s quiet between them for a moment before Stiles’ face lights up. “Wanna go make out underneath the bleachers? I’ve always wanted to but never had someone else to join me.”

His excitement is contagious, and Derek can’t help but agree. It’s not like he has to be in any classes. Stiles fixed his schedule – where Stiles learned how to hack into the school’s server is something Derek _doesn’t_ want to know – so it’s the same as his own, which means they both get out at lunch.

So he lets Stiles drag him to the empty lacrosse field by his wrist and follows him under the bleachers. “I may feel seventeen, but I’m not really seventeen, you know that right?” Derek asks him as he ducks under a beam.

Stiles laughs and spins around to crowd into Derek’s space. “Of course I know that. But when in Rome.” He winks before attaching his lips to Derek’s, and Derek really did have a response, but it kind of disappears once the taste of Stiles is on his tongue. Priorities. Derek definitely has them.

He pushes Stiles against one of the beams and slides a hand down to his thigh, urging Stiles to wrap it around his waist.

“Oh come on,” Stiles groans, seemingly knowing where Derek is headed. “You’re not allowed to be that strong at seventeen. I can believe it when you’re adult but now? Really?”

Derek shrugs and hoists Stiles up, Stiles’ legs wrapping around his waist. “Werewolf.”

“Asshole,” Stiles mumbles as he goes back to kissing Derek like they never stopped. His tongue is circling around Derek’s and maybe lifting him up was a bad idea. Derek is going a little weak in the knees. He leans Stiles back against one of the beams and pulls back to suck at Stiles’ neck, leaving marks along the column to show people that Stiles _is_ taken.

“Marking kink ugh,” Stiles moans out. “It’s the worst.”

Derek grinds his hips up into Stiles, feeling how hard he is in his jeans. “Yeah, I can tell you’re not into this at all.”

Stiles snorts before grabbing Derek’s face and bringing their mouths together again. “Missed you,” he whispers against Derek’s lips. His hips start twitching against Derek, searching for some friction. “Need you.”

“Let’s go home,” Derek suggest, pulling back and pecking Stiles once as Derek lets him slide down his body so Stiles is standing again. Their hands find each other as they race towards the parking lot. Soon, Stiles breaks off, trying to beat Derek to the Jeep. He wins, but only because Derek lets him.

It’s hard to keep his hands to himself once they’re in the jeep. He leans over the gear shift and starts kissing Stiles’ neck again, leaving marks on the side closest to him that was bare when he started.

“You’re going to kill us,” Stiles says breathlessly. “Or just me since you have the whole werewolf healing ability.”

Derek snorts, but takes his hand away from Stiles’ thigh anyway. At least until they’re in the apartment. Then it’s totally fair game.

Once they’re in the apartment, Stiles is stripping off his shirt and kicking off his shoes, throwing his keys, and Derek doesn’t pay attention to where they land because Stiles is shirtless in front of him. It’s quite the view and so is the bulge in his pants.

It’s a rush to get each other naked and into the bedroom, but they eventually make it with Stiles tripping over his jeans when he tries to walk and take them off at the same time. Derek laughs at him, so Stiles nips at his chest in retaliation, but then his lips don’t seem to leave Derek’s skin and it’s fucking _amazing_.

“Bed,” Derek sighs. “Bed. Lube. Now.”

“Me, Derek,” Stiles mocks in a deep voice. “Me need sex now.”

“Are you going to argue?” Derek asks, obviously looking down at Stiles’ hard dick that’s pressing against the fabric of his boxer briefs.

Stiles quickly and enthusiastically shakes his head and pushes down his underwear before sliding his hands in the back of Derek’s. “God love your ass,” he moans, pulling Derek into him and biting his neck. “Wanna fuck you.”

“Yeah,” Derek breathes when he feels Stiles’ finger slipping between the crack and just pressing on his hole. “Let’s do that.”

Surprisingly, Stiles is strong enough to manhandle Derek onto the bed, flipping him over so he’s on his back. He pulls Derek’s underwear off him completely before reaching over him to grab the lube from the nightstand. Derek can feel his lips kiss the center of his tattoo as one finger slides into him. Stiles’ lips slide down, laving his tongue and nipping at skin here and there and going back up. Derek is so focused on what Stiles’ lips are doing he barely registers that a second finger is added, stretching him open.

“Fuck,” Derek moans. “Want your big, gorgeous cock in me.” Flashes of what Stiles looks like when Derek has fucked him goes through his mind. Good to know those are the memories he’s gotten back. The sex ones. Of course. He doesn’t tell Stiles because well, they’re busy.

“Patience, my young padawan,” Stiles says in his Yoda voice.

“God with anyone else that would’ve been a mood killer.” Derek rolls his eyes even though Stiles can’t see him.

Stiles laughs and kisses Derek’s shoulder softly as he pulls his fingers out, adding more lube before he pushes three fingers in. He’s alternating between scissoring his fingers and rubbing against Derek’s prostate, and it’s so good that Derek fears coming before Stiles gets inside him.

“Stiles,” he growls, letting his fangs elongate. “ _Now_.”

“A please would be nice,” Stiles mumbles, smacking Derek’s ass probably as punishment, but all it does is make Derek moan more, which makes Stiles stop moving. “We are definitely going to explore that kink at a later date. For now I’m gonna fuck you.”

“Are you going to keep telling me you are or are you actually going to fuck me?” Derek asks, looking over his shoulder with a smirk.

Stiles’ face softens at him, and he starts pushing at Derek’s hip to make him turn over. “Wanna see you,” Stiles mumbles, flushing. “It’s been too long.”

Derek nods, getting comfortable on his back and staring at Stiles with wonder that this man is his. This _ridiculous_ , strong man is his mate.

Stiles takes a deep breath before lubing up his dick and achingly slow sliding it into Derek.

“Before I de-age, Stiles, come on.”

His mate rolls his eyes at him, but smiles anyway like he’s happy to be reminded that Derek is here. “It’s our first time like this, okay? I want it to be good for you.” He’s finally fully seated, and as good as it feels, Derek need Stiles to _move_ , so he tells him so.

Everything is almost too much for Derek. The smell of his mate, the feel of Stiles sliding in and out of him, and the _noises_ Stiles is making. They’re all buried and vibrating off of Derek’s neck where Stiles’ face is buried as he moves his hips back and forth.

The heat is building up in Derek’s groin, and he can feel himself on the edge. “Stiles, faster,” he demands, moaning when Stiles complies and gets a fast rhythm going.

He pushes himself up to look down at Derek, and he’s smiling and his hair is a mess and he’s sweaty and he’s beautiful. “I wanna see you come, Derek,” he mumbles, hand sliding down Derek’s stomach to squeeze his dick. “I want to see you come from my dick.”

Derek nods, completely on board with the idea and focus on the feel of Stiles everywhere. His scent, his face, his touch. It’s all too much and then Derek can feel himself tense up, Stiles moaning when he clenches around him.

When Derek comes to, Stiles is licking the come off his stomach, and it _almost_ makes his dick twitch with interest if it wasn’t too soon. But then Derek hears something.

“Are _all_ the faucets on?” he asks, confused.

Stiles blushes and smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I got my mojo back. The force is strong with this one. In more ways than one.” He waggles his eyebrows at Derek, making the werewolf laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” Derek informs him, rolling over onto his side.

Stiles curls up behind him, wrapping his arms and legs around him like an octopus. “’M _your_ idiot. My neck says so.”

“Damn right,” Derek mumbles, feeling sleep starting to pull at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mean i gave you smut with bottom!derek that's a pretty good way to makeup for taking forever, right???


	6. The End Has Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no excuse for why this took so long none at all

“I’m not saying my dick is magic… _but_ ,” Stiles waves his hand at Derek’s fully matured face. “The evidence is obvious.”

The face he gets in response is well…not the nicest face Derek has given him, but it’s also not the worst, so he takes it as a win.

“You did not fuck the spell out of me,” Derek deadpans, and really how did he say that with a straight face?

Stiles is trying (read: failing) not to laugh, like _really_ hard. “Baby, it’s the power of love,” he says between laughs. “The power of my _dick_.”

Derek buries his face into his pillow, groaning. “You’re the worst. Why am I in love with you?”

“I have a list, but it starts with my dick. My magical dick that made you go back to your normal age.”

It’s how they woke up the next morning. Stiles opened his eyes and saw _his_ Derek. The Derek he thought he lost months ago. The lines by his eyes are back that he probably got from laughing at Stiles. There’s a small line between his eyebrows that is probably from frowning at Stiles. Stiles has really aged his boyfriend a lot. That’s okay because he is his natural age now.

He lifts the pillow from Derek’s face and rests his face inches away on the mattress. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his thump sweeping over Derek’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re back to you.”

“I’m never admitting it was your dick,” Derek grumbles.

Stiles laughs delightedly. “You don’t have to because I know. I _know_.”

Derek’s face frowns suddenly and he lifts his head, cocking his head to listen. “One of our phone’s is ringing.”

With a groan, Stiles stands up and marches to the living room where their pants are. He’s probably way late for school and it’s his dad calling him, demanding to know why he’s skipping. He grabs the ringing phone, not even bothering to check who’s it is (his and Derek’s are really similar) before answering.

“Yo,” he answers.

“Stiles,” a woman voice greets him. The voice is cold and clipped, and Stiles knows exactly who it is.

“How did you get this number?” he asks, his voice just as cold and clipped as hers, and he’s still not sure whose phone it is. That doesn’t matter, though, because she shouldn’t have either of their numbers. She shouldn’t be contacting them.

“I have my ways, Stiles.”

“Really, your villain talk is really lacking in creativity,” Stiles informs her. “Is there like a general class you guys take at the community college or is this university level?”

“Shut up, you idiot,” she half-growls.

“I’ve definitely been called worse.”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Kate growls out. “I want Derek.”

“Get in line.”

“I _need_ him.”

“Again, get in line.”

That’s when said man is walking out of their room, wearing his underwear because someone had the thought of putting on clothes before exiting the room and isn’t arguing with a crazy back-from-the-dead lady naked. Eh, Stiles has done worse things.

“He’s the only chance I have at a cure.”

“Cure for what?” Stiles asks, confused.

“For what his uncle did to me.”

Derek tilts his head in confusion, frowning. He holds a hand out, gesturing for the phone, but Stiles refuses to give it up. Instead he puts it on speaker so Derek can ask, “What did Peter do to you?”

“Ah, Derek, how great it is to hear your voice again,” she says in a saccharine voice. “It sounds a little deeper. Did someone go through puberty a little earlier than planned?”

Stiles wants to hang up the phone and possibly bury it so they never have to hear her voice again. Derek seems to be feeling the same way. Stiles really wishes this woman would stay out of their lives forever, and if that means he has to kill her then he is completely willing to do so.

“What did he do, Kate?” Derek growls. So much growling. Maybe Stiles should learn how to growl and sound more menacing.

“He turned me into…into _something_ ,” she tells them, the disgust in her voice obvious. “And I need Hale blood to fix it.”

“Great another sacrifice,” Stiles groans. He thought maybe he was done with that shit after Peter and Jennifer/Julia died but _no_. This is his life. Of fucking course. “Over my dead body, Kate.”

“That can easily be arranged,” she says offhandedly.

“No,” is all Derek gets out between his clenched teeth.

There’s a sigh over the phone. “Both of you are being overly dramatic. I just need blood. Not all of it. Just a few drops and I need an emissary.”

“So you need both of us,” Derek concludes.

“I need both of you,” she agrees in an annoyed tone like this is the most inconvenient thing to happen to her.

“Why would we help you?” Stiles asks. “You killed his family and tried to kill my best friend. What incentive do we have to help _you_?”

Derek shrugs, silently agreeing with Stiles. There’s no reason to help her. She’s evil and kidnapped Derek and put a spell on him to make him forget Stiles.

“Because you owe me,” Kate tells them. “I saved Derek, kept him alive. You _owe_ me.”

“No, we really don’t. Now if I ever see your face again, I will not think twice about killing you. Do you understand me?” Stiles is practically seething over this woman’s entitlement.

“But then you’ll never know how I saved Derek,” she says, sounding disappointed. “And I know how curious you are, Stiles.”

He rolls his eyes angrily. “You know nothing about me.”

“Yes, but your father has a lot to say about you.”

Wait what. “My father?” Stiles asks loudly. “What did you do with my father?”

She sighs. “Nothing yet, which is really a shame. He really is a handsome man for his age.” There is a moment of silence before she continues. “If you want to save your father, you will meet me at the Hale house ruins at eight tonight.” Then she hangs up before Stiles can say anything.

“She has my dad,” Stiles realizes, his voice breaking. “We have to go.”

“It’s most likely a trap,” Derek tells him. “It’s the way she works.”

“So?” Stiles yells, turning on Derek. “She has _my dad_.”

Derek takes a step closer, resting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. We’ll get him back.”

“Call Laura,” Stiles mumbles. “We need her.”

Derek quickly makes the call, putting it on speaker.

“Whoever this is isn’t funny,” Laura growls when she answers.

“Laura,” Stiles says softly. “I have some big news for you. I didn’t want to tell you when I found out because it was just a rumor, but…Derek is alive, and he’s right here with me.”

“You’re not funny, Stiles,” Laura tells him, her voice breaking like there’s a lump in her throat.

“He’s not being funny,” Derek says.

She gasps loudly and then calls for Cora. “Just a second, waiting for Cora to come out of her room.”

They stay silent as they listen to the other end of the phone call. Stiles is sure Derek can hear what’s going on more than he can, but then Stiles hears Cora’s voice asking, “What’s up?”

“Derek is alive,” Laura tells her. “He’s actually alive and on the phone right now.”

“What?” Cora asks blandly, and Stiles can perfectly picture her blank face, blinking at Laura in confusion.

“He’s alive,” Laura repeats.

“Hi, Cora,” Derek says softly with a small smile on his face. “I miss you guys. When are you coming back?”

Then there’s a very loud sob that can only be coming from Cora. “Derek!” she yells. “You’re there. We’re coming back right now. Right, Laura?”

“Right. As soon as we can book a plane ticket, we’re gone.”

“Good because we need your help with something,” Stiles says. “Kate is also alive.”

There are two sets of growls over the phone, and it’s Laura who says, “We’ll be there,” and then hangs up presumably so they can book a flight and get here.

“So now we need to get Scott and his pack,” Derek says, turning into planning mode. “Then we’ll all go to save your dad. All of us against Kate. She can’t have any backup.”

Stiles nods, taking comfort in having a plan, and he finally puts clothes on so they can go to Scott’s.

Once they get there, Scott calls the rest of the pack to come over and discuss the plan with them.

“We’ll go in first,” Scott says, gesturing to his pack. “Then you, Derek, Laura, and Cora.”

“No,” Stiles immediately argues. “I’m going in first. I’m getting my dad back.”

Scott frowns, but doesn’t fight Stiles on it, which is probably a good idea because Stiles is going to put up one hell of a fight about it. “Fine. We go together with the Hales in the back, okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles agrees, loosening up after tensing in anger. “Derek is in the very back.” He turns to him with a very serious face. “You stay the hell away from Kate, okay?”

Derek looks like he wants to argue, but he stops and nods. “Got it.”

“Allison, do you think you’ll be able to identify any booby traps she sets out?” Scott asks, turning to her.

She nods. “At least most of them. I learned everything I know from her, but there’s a chance she held back and didn’t teach me everything.”

“We’ll have to take that chance,” Scott sighs like he doesn’t want to, but it’s Stiles’ dad. They must do everything they can to get him back.

They spend the rest of the day practicing and building up their strength. Stiles sits in the backyard in the grass and meditates to feel his power build up. Derek sits with his back leaning against Stiles’, and Stiles matches his breathing to his. The touch helps the power pump through him like it used to before Derek died.

Opening his eyes, Stiles can see the rest of the pack fighting each other, Allison yelling out things they can expect from Kate and that she fights dirty, which surprises no one. He leans his head against Derek’s shoulder and takes a moment to breathe to calm himself down.

They’re going to get his dad back. They will. They have to. His dad will be okay. It will all be okay. They deserve this. Derek and Stiles deserve to be happy together. Kate can’t endanger that.

Derek stiffens for a second and then relaxes. “My sisters are here,” he says quietly.

All the other weres stop to listen to the two women walking through the house to the backyard, which makes Lydia stop and turn too.

“Must be almost time then,” Stiles says, sitting up straight and standing up to greet this alpha and packmate.

They walk through the backdoor and run straight for Derek, both clinging to him tightly. Stiles takes a step back to give them their space until Laura reaches out and tugs him over to join the hug. Someone is crying, but Stiles isn’t sure who it is.

After a minute of hugging, they separate, and Laura looks at Lydia and walks quickly to her, sweeping her up into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Lydia hugs her back tightly, kissing her cheek. “It’s okay.”

“Now that everyone has had their reunions,” Stiles says, looking around at everyone, “I think we should fill Laura and Cora in on what’s going on.”

They do, and Laura and Cora both look enraged at what Kate has done. They also look ready to fight anyone who dare threatens any of their friends, which is how Stiles feels and is exactly the kind of mood they should be in for tonight.

It’s about the time they need to leave, so they all pack into cars and drive towards the reserve. The drive there is silent in the Jeep as they all focus on what needs to be done.

Once they get to the reserve, they break into two groups with Allison leading the way to the remains of the house. She helps them miss three different booby traps, but once they’ve hit the clearing, Stiles steps into the front. He is ready to fight anyone who dare lays a hand on his dad, ready to fight the woman who fucked over his mate.

Standing in front of the house is said woman with Stiles’ dad on the ground with his hands tied behind his back.

“What did you do to him?” Stiles yells, wanting to run straight to his dad, but knowing better than that.

Kate laughs like this situation actually delights her. Knowing what she’s done, it probably does. “I have done nothing to harm him,” she says.

Stiles looks to his dad, who nods, agreeing with what Kate said. “Then release him.”

She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “You didn’t bring me Derek.”

That’s when the Hale’s come out of the trees and into the clearing. Her senses must not be as strong as a wolf’s otherwise she would have sensed them there.

Her eyes light up when she sees them, and she smiles maliciously. “You brought me three Hale’s. How kind of you.”

“We’re here to get back the sheriff,” Laura tells her loudly. “Anything else you want isn’t going to happen.”

Kate’s eyes fall on Stiles. “But don’t you want to know how you missed that your dear mate came back to life?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles says even though the curiosity is burning through him. “All that matters is that he’s back.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot if you believe it doesn’t matter, if you believe that it won’t change everything.”

“People come back from the dead all the time here,” Stiles says.

She laughs. “That’s true, but this may change the game for you.”

He takes a deep breath and tells himself she is just baiting him. She doesn’t know anything. And Peter couldn’t have done anything because Peter is gone, dead. She is just trying to get him to do something for her that he isn’t willing to do.

“I’m just here to get my dad back,” Stiles tells her. “That’s it.”

“Take him,” Kate gestures to his dad, sitting on the ground. “He’s up for grabs. I don’t want him.”

Stiles takes a cautious step forward and then keeps walking until he reaches his dad. He helps his dad stand up and then gently pushes him back towards the packs. He stumbles over there, but he makes it.

“Now, what are we going to do about you?” Stiles wonders aloud. “I could kill you.”

“Like you could kill me,” she sneers.

He raises his eyebrows. “I’ve killed before, Kate. I’ll do it again.”

She snarls at him and readies herself for an attack. When she jumps at him, he simply takes a step to the side so she misses and falls to the ground. “You think you’re such a powerful emissary,” she growls. “I’ll show you.”

She pounces on him again, but this time he pushes her back with a gust of wind. “Like hell you’ll show me anything,” Stiles half-growls back.

She stays on the ground and stares at him in shock. “I still don’t believe you’ll kill me.”

He kneels in front of her and grabs her by the neck, holding it tightly but not tight enough to fully block her airway. “Don’t doubt me. After what you’ve done to Derek and his family, I have every right to kill you. You should be dead.”

“I’m not,” she gasps out. “Because of what Peter and his witch did to me.”

“What witch?” Stiles asks.

She smiles, which is so weird to see when she is still gasping for air, her hands uselessly grabbing at Stiles’ arm. “If you kill me, you’ll never know.”

“Don’t do it,” a voice says from behind.

Stiles glances back to see Derek looking at him with concern all over his face. “I’m going to kill her,” Stiles tells him. “If I don’t, there’s no telling what she will do.”

“Have her arrested for kidnapping the sheriff,” Derek offers. “Don’t kill her. That’s not you.”

“I’ve killed before,” Stiles reminds him. “As I told Kate, I can do it again.”

Derek shakes his head. “You don’t need to do it this time.”

And Stiles can admit that his mate is right, so he releases his grip on Kate, letting her fall to the ground again. She clutches her throat and gasps for air, coughing as she chokes on it.

He sighs and leans into Derek. “It’s done. It’s finally all done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i might add a fourth part???? bc i have inspiration to do so???? but i make no promises anymore.


End file.
